Becky smiled and sipped at her tea. "Not a problem. Besides, I do need the help, and you seem like a kick in the pants. That’s just what this place needs.”
Abby was just going to take another bite of her omelet when the front door of the café banged open and in stormed an older woman who looked like she had fire coming out of her ears and about the tightest bun Abby had ever seen pulling her hair back.
“Oh, jackrabbits!” Becky said and sprang up.
Chapter 6
“There you are you floating piece of garbage,” snarled the woman as she stormed across Becky’s café in a beeline towards Craig Malcolm. It was incredible how quickly she moved despite looking so frail, and despite this being her café, Becky had a hard time keeping up with her. However, Craig was even faster and quickly rose from his chair, placing it and the table between himself and the hellion who was descending upon him in righteous fury.
“Now, now, Mabel,” Craig said desperately while holding his hands out in front of him like a shield. Whatever the reason the old woman was storming toward him, it was clear that Craig knew the reason from the look on his face and hadn’t expected it to come back to haunt him. “Don’t be a sore loser! It’s not my fault your legal aid filed your injunction paperwork incorrectly. There’s no use blaming that on me. You should’ve hired better lawyers.”
Mabel picked up one of the butter knives from a place setting and waved it like a katana. “I can very well blame you Mr. Fancy Pants Craig Malcolm! You know we can’t afford a lawyer. This entire town doesn’t have enough money to fight the likes of you! But I’m old enough I can get away with gutting you like the pig you are! I’ll be dead before they even get to trial! I’m not going to let you cut down our family tree, damn your eyes!”
Abby was amazed at the energy Mabel showed as she prepared to lunge across the table, but Becky was quicker as she swooped in and relieved the energetic old woman of her weapon. “That’s enough, Mabel!” Becky said, glaring at the severe old lady. “You’re not going to gut anyone today, much less in the middle of my restaurant! Stop that!”
Mabel glared back, pointing across the table at Craig and shaking her finger as she tried to get Becky onto her side. “Becky, you of all people shouldn’t be defending this prune. He’s destroying our town,” Mabel finally pleaded. “We can’t let him cut down the park. We can’t let him cut down my oak tree!”
“I know, Mabel. I know,” Becky said, putting her arm around the old woman’s shoulders and steering her away from Craig and back toward the door. She slipped the butter knife onto an empty table as she passed it by, then patted Mabel’s arm. “Don’t you worry, Mabel, we’ll get another injunction filed and correctly this time. I knew a law student wasn’t a good idea. No matter how long it takes, we’ll save your oak tree.”
Mabel seemed to deflate as Becky talked, transforming from the fiery old dame back into a frail elderly woman before Abby’s eyes. It was painful to watch, but Abby stood there quietly and tried not to attract attention. Whatever was going on here, it was clear it was an emotional moment.
For his part, Craig seemed to be looking for his phone, which, from her vantage point, Abby could see next to the table leg. Finally, the too-handsome man looked up angrily and called after the two women, “Becky, you better call the police on her. She can’t just be threatening anyone with a knife anytime she wants to.”
Becky spun and snarled. “Shut up, Craig. She’s leaving, and she didn’t touch you. I figure being attacked was old hat to you by now. What is it? Three times this month already? What do you expect when you treat people like trash?”
Craig wrinkled his face up petulantly and fired back. “It’s only business. Besides this town needs the money or we’ll be drinking bottled water soon. I’m only trying to help.”
Becky made a hissing sound. “Helping? Like you tried to help me a few years ago by parking your logging trucks outside of my café and then trying to buy my business when I started to struggle? You are such an ass, Craig. You’re lucky I don’t poison your omelet.”
Craig frowned and looked at his mostly-eaten omelet as if expecting to see beetles or something crawling out of it but Becky only snorted and turned back around, escorting Mabel Clawson to the front door.
Abby began to stand, but Becky shooed her down and continued talking to the old woman. When they got close, Becky leaned over toward Abby and half whispered. “Can you stay here for a few minutes and watch the store? Craig’s already got his receipt, and if anyone else comes in just seat them and tell them I’ll be right back.” She made a pleading face and shrugged. “Please? And sorry. God, you must think we’re all a bunch of wackadoodles.”
Abby blinked but didn’t take long to come to the conclusion that she liked Becky and wanted to help. “No problem. I used to bus tables in college at a relatively busy restaurant. I’ll take care of things. You just get Mrs. Clawson home or wherever you put wackadoodles.”
Becky laughed silently behind Mabel’s head but squeezed Abby’s hand before leading her out of the Café. She walked her to the sidewalk and then took a left before disappearing around the hedge of bushes. Abby watched them go with her hands on her hips and Cheerio by her side. A moment later, Cheerio wuffled just before Craig joined her at the window and peeked out. Abby frowned as she watched the supposedly big, strong logger peek out of the glass window as if Mabel might come charging back and crash through the glass.
“Do you have a phone? I can’t seem to find mine.”
“Are you still planning on calling the police?” Abby said in a disapproving voice and a raised eyebrow. She almost couldn’t believe this man, but after everything else she’d seen from him, she should have expected nothing less.
At first, Craig didn’t pick up her tone, but after a moment of silence he glanced at her and blinked, apparently surprised at the look Abby was leveling at him. It took a moment to register, but finally, the man dipped his head and glanced away in embarrassment. “No, I guess not.”
Abby snorted before finally taking pity on him, fairly sure he wouldn’t try to turn Mabel in and nodded back toward his table. “Your phone fell onto the floor. It’s by the table leg.”
Craig glanced back, then hustled over and picked it up. Despite what he’d said, he paused and looked at the screen before realizing Abby was watching him and then put it away in his pocket, bending down to sign his breakfast receipt instead. Returning to the front door, he opened it, peeked out as if looking for ninjas and then hustled to his sparkling clean giant four-by-four truck.
Abby just shook her head and patted Cheerio on the head. For his part, Cheerio sniffed and gave an unimpressed half-bark. Clearly, their opinions were the same.
Chapter 7
"How was your day in town, dear?” Hazel asked when Abby came through the front door with Cheerio close behind.
Plopping down on the loveseat, Abby gave an ambiguous humph sound. Hazel was looking at Abby over her glasses which pointed at the crossword puzzle she had been working. "Fine. I met some people, and most of them seemed nice."
Hazel paused, sensing something was wrong before putting her crossword puzzle and her hands in her lap. "Most of them?"
Abby chuckled to herself but nodded. "Yes, most of them. The mayor seems like a nice man, and I met Becky over at Becky's café. She offered me a job at this weekend's fall fair."
"But?"
"But I also opened a bank account down at the local branch. Susan was helpful, but the bank manager was a jerk."
Hazel frowned. "Frank Millerson. That man still drags his knuckles on the ground. Did he do anything? I swear, if he did I'll go down and give him a piece of my mind and I guarantee you, he won’t like it.”
Abby fidgeted in her seat restlessly before she stood and walked into the kitchen. She could still see Hazel though the open doorway but took the time to fill the teapot and place it on the stove before answering. “No, he didn’t do anything to me. I would’ve done more than just give him a piece of my
mind but he ordered Susan to get him some coffee. I mean, he yelled across the lobby for her to do it too. I felt like I was in the nineteen-seventies or something.”
Hazel snorted much like Becky had and shook her head. “That’s Frank. He’s been an idiot his whole life. I’d say I don’t understand why Susan puts up with it, but she doesn’t have a lot of backbone, unfortunately. I’m afraid her family raised their children with a rather strict sense of decorum. It’s probably the same reason Frank gave her a job. He’s good friends with her parents.”
“Who are her parents?”
Hazel put up her hands and made quotes in the air. “Rick and Beth Clawson of the Clawsons,” she said, making air quotes around the last word. They’re one of the founding families and have been here even longer than we have. The central park in town has a tree named after them. If you get the chance, you should go by there and see it. One of the biggest oaks in town. They call it the Clawson Oak, and it’s quite a sight to see. Far more impressive than the family it’s named after.”
Abby’s eyes grew wide, remembering the old woman that had charged into Becky’s like a storm. “I think I met one of them. She came into the Café and tried to attack Craig Malcolm with a butter knife before Becky got her turned around and took her home.” Abby blew out a breath and leaned back against the carved wood of the loveseat and shook her head. “Why does it feel like I’m in the middle of the soap opera?”
Hazel chuckled and reached over to pat Abby’s leg. “Don’t worry; it's no big deal. Maybe I’m a bit overdramatic. The Clawsons can be just a bit eccentric, but they’ve never been something to cause worry. Craig Malcolm and a butter knife aside.”
“What kind of eccentric?”
“I’ve told you some of it. They are strict with their children and how they should act. Religious, too, though for the most part they cherry pick what works for them and ignore the hard work. They tend to stay to themselves and put on airs about their lineage. Susan is quite a good person, herself.”
Just then the teapot started whistling, and Abby got up to take care of it. As she did so, Mr. Wilberson came shuffling in from outside. His pale, rheumy eyes took her in for a moment before he nodded politely to her, grunted as he grabbed a bottle of beer from the fridge, and headed back outside. Abby watched him go, curious even as she put the hot water in a teapot and brought the service out to the living room where Hazel was sitting.
“Thank you, dear,” Hazel said as she leaned forward and picked up a cup.
Abby poured for her and then poured for herself before sitting and blowing over the hot liquid. It did sound like a soap opera. Between Frank Millerson and his treatment of women to the almost knife-fight in Becky’s Café, she was a little overwhelmed. Especially on her first full day in town. “I think Cheerio and I saw the oak you were talking about when we were in town. After Becky had come back from returning Mabel to wherever she lived, we went to go check out the park, but there were a lot of people standing around with signs. It didn’t look very friendly.”
Hazel raised an eyebrow before taking a sip and nodding sadly at her granddaughter. “Yes, I’m afraid that park won’t be there very much longer. Craig Malcolm, the man that Mabel backed into a corner in Becky’s, bought the land a while ago and had been trying to develop it. A lot of people are upset, and frankly, I don’t blame them. Just because someone can do something doesn’t mean they should.”
“Can I ask? Is Craig Malcolm part lizard? Why would he want to tear out a park?”
Hazel nodded before picking up her crossword puzzle and looking at it. “Progress, dear. Unfortunately, we do not have a wealthy town, and we needed the money to fix the old water treatment plant. Water’s been getting worse and worse. The county wouldn’t be able to help us for another few years, so the mayor was forced to deal with Craig Malcolm. I think he wants to make some strip mall out of it if you can believe it. And yes, he is part lizard.”
Abby took a deep breath and thought about what Hazel said. Her simmering anger at Craig Malcolm just grew by a small bit, stoked by yet another piece of information. A strip mall would look ugly in this beautiful small town and most likely drive many of the small businesses out. It would be a tragedy. She generally liked to give people plenty of chances to prove themselves, but after seeing Craig Malcolm in action, she was having a hard time giving him any chance at all.
Chapter 8
Abby peeked out from under the canopy at the streams of people walking by and at the other booths set up along the old, moss-covered pathways that wound in and out amongst them. Arching above them were the full branches of the Clawson oak tree radiating out from the middle of the festival. It’s commanding presence oversaw the festival like a Thanksgiving centerpiece. Becky had made some sandwiches and had two huge coolers full of a variety of drinks that she was selling to the people that walked by, but since it was still relatively early in the morning, they had plenty of time to sit and chat.
Surprisingly, the booth next door was doing a more lively business with several types of quiches, juices, and even some wine samples. What surprised Abby was they were selling alcohol at this hour, and there were already a few folks that were happily sipping out of the faux plastic wine glasses.
“Callahan’s,” Becky said in an indifferent tone, pointing at an elegant middle-aged woman who was chatting with the mayor. “Grace always sets up right next to me just to make certain she makes more money. It’s not like we serve the same class of folks, but no one ever told her that, I suppose.”
“Is she trying to steal your business?” Abby asked, following Becky’s pointing finger with her eyes.
The woman shook her head and shrugged. “Not really. Or at least that’s what I tell myself while I viciously chop carrots. Callahan’s tends to serve the tourists that come through on their wine tours with fancier food and higher menu prices, so they are in a different bracket than I am. It doesn’t interfere with my business as far as I can tell, but these little displays are annoying. We don’t talk much.” Becky waved her hand dismissively toward the other booth.
“Well, and wine,” Abby said, watching Frank Millerson walk off into the crowd with a glass of port. “Does it get rowdy toward the afternoon? Even at this rate, I hope it’s not something we have to worry about or Cheerio’s going to get to bite somebody.” Abby reached down and ruffled Cheerios fur while she spoke to him in a little kid voice. “Won’t you like that, boy? You’ll chase those drunks around won’t you?”
Cheerio let out a short bark and enthusiastically wagged his tail. He was currently sitting underneath the front table where no one could see him chew on an old tennis ball.
“He is a smart dog,” Becky said. “Didn’t you say he was a shepherd?”
Abby nodded “Yes, he’s an Australian Shepherd. Very smart and very loyal just as long as you run them every day.” Abby paused, shivering to herself as she recalled a much younger Cheerio standing amidst a snowstorm of couch stuffing. “Trust me when I tell you, they need to get out every day and do something active, or they become crazy little monsters. We learned that the hard way after Danny went away on deployment and I got busy doing things. He wasn’t too kind to our couch during that week.”
“Danny? Your husband?”
And there it was again. Abby forgot that Danny was gone. Again. Mentioning him like he was just going to come around the corner and sweep her into his arms made her heart crack just a little more each time it happened. Abby took a deep breath and nodded. Even after all this time, it was still difficult to talk about him. “Yes, or rather he was. He passed away on deployment about a year and a half ago.”
Abby watched as Becky’s eyes sunk into that odd place between concern and uncertainty. She wondered how Becky would react. Would she try to fix it right away, or blow it off? Instead, Becky just took a deep breath and blew it out. “I’m sorry. I know we just met, but if you ever want to go out and talk I’m up for it. There are two bars in town, and both are kept pretty clean. Or hiking
? That’s the official Oregon sport, by the way. So,” Becky said as she changed the subject. “Where did you live before you moved here? I have to ask these things since I’ve never been out of this town and everyone else keeps saying the entire planet is covered with wackos and creeps. You can imagine the picture in my head.”
“Phoenix, for about eight months,” Abby answered in relief, happy for the change in subject. “Dear Lord, I’ve never lived somewhere so hot in my life. I wasn’t there very long, but it’s a different world. They call it dry heat. Me, I just call it hot. I don’t think they even realize what rain is.”
Becky laughed and gestured around herself at the huge trees. “Well, you sure do like your extremes. It doesn’t rain nearly as much as they say it does, but during the spring it can get pretty wet. I’m sure it’s got to rain down in Phoenix sometime, right?”
Abby nodded. “Yes, sometimes, but they don’t like it very much. I worked in a call center for a few months, and one day it rained hard. It was surprising, actually, but one of the gals that I worked with had stopped her car under an overpass because she was scared to drive in it.”
“Don’t repeat that story too much around here or you’ll just reinforce how they feel about other places. I can’t even imagine being afraid to drive in the rain, though the people up in Portland tend to get a bit crazy about it. Don’t even get me started on snow.”
“I was in Phoenix once,” a mousy voice said out of the blue.
Becky and Abby turned toward the interruption and spied a thin, long-faced girl from Callahan’s booth. She looked to be about twenty-four or twenty-five, but it was hard to tell through her long bangs which kept her eyes half-hidden. Blinking owlishly, she seemed surprised to be acknowledged and quickly looked around for an escape.
Abby and Becky looked at each other before Becky turned and responded as if talking to a scared animal. “Samantha, it’s okay. I never knew you were down in Phoenix. What were you doing down there?”
Hot Tea and Cold Murder: A Red Pine Falls Cozy Mystery (Red Pine Falls Cozy Mysteries Book 1) Page 4
